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[Damon]The moment we step out of the National Medical Council building, I feel like I can finally breathe again.Harry walks beside me, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket as we make our way down the marble steps.“Damon,” Harry says, not sounding happy at all. “Are you sure you wanna go this far? I mean, Elara is already wary of you… If you do this now, wouldn’t she hate you even more?”He’s right. For some reason, Elara seems taken by that penniless doctor, and I don’t even know why. What makes him better than me? Sure, he’s got the looks and that confidence that isn’t just for anyone, but still, how am I not better than him?It makes me mad, though. Just the thought of it makes me mad as hell.I huff, heading straight for my car, annoyed that Harry’s right. Elara will be mad. But so what? I’m doing this for her own good, am I not? That man clearly has no good intentions. If not for being Cora’s doctor, I doubt Elara would have even looked at him.“She might,” I admit as I open the
[Beatrice]I enter Cyrus’s home office, only to find a woman sprawled on the desk and him balls-deep inside her.“What the fuck?” he curses the moment he sees me, while the blonde woman shrieks.It takes the two of them five minutes to collect themselves, and the woman runs out of the room as if her ass is on fire.“You didn’t have to barge in like that,” Cyrus says once he has all his clothes back on and busies himself by grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the drawer and sticking one into his mouth. “Are the Blackwoods always this forward? Or is it just you?”I watch him through narrowed eyes and realize he isn’t embarrassed in the slightest. If it had been Damon, things would have been completely different.First of all, I would never have caught him like this because he would never be careless enough to take his love life outside the bedroom. And even if I had somehow caught him, he wo
[Griffin]After I drop Elara back at the hospital, I walk her all the way to Cora’s room.I’m pretending to be normal, but I feel anything but that.Today, Elara expressed her desire to know more about me. My past. My childhood. My everything. And even though it shouldn’t feel that way—like a weight heavier than the earth itself—it still does. I feel like I was on the verge of being too exposed. Because if I hadn’t diverted the conversation and she hadn’t gone along with it, I would have told her everything, and that would have been like walking through damn fire.It would have hurt. Singed.Not because my past is the kind of wound that aches when mentioned, but because I don’t know how she would take it all in.Elara is kind and soft, and everything that’s good in the world. So, no doubt, she would pity me, feel bad for me, feel like she owes me something.And I don’t want t
I chuckle when he asks me if I’m jealous.I’m so NOT jealous.And why should I be? Of what?The fact that he has been with other women? Or that he might have slept with many more women before me?The idea never came to me before. But now that it has, it kind of sticks.Something tightens in my chest.I try to ignore it. It’s probably nothing.“I don’t think I have the right to judge your past relationships,” I say, trying to be honest and mean every word. “Mine is a mess, and you’re still here.”He is, isn’t he?So maybe it doesn’t matter. The past is in the past, and what matters is this very moment in the present and the future that still needs to be planned and built.He leans back, cocking his head, and looks at me as if considering my words, processing them. “Are you saying that if someday a woman walks into our life and claims to be my l
When we step out of the back exit of the hospital, very few people can be seen lingering about.The sky has turned dark, and the lampposts cast long shadows on the ground.In the moment, I’m very much aware of the man walking beside me. We haven’t spoken a word since we left Cora’s room, but the silence is comfortable. Easy. The cool evening air feels like a balm against my heated skin, and I can feel the tension slowly draining out of my shoulders.It’s only when, instead of entering the garden that I thought we were heading to, he leads us to the parking lot that I speak. “Where are we going?”“Somewhere I can take care of you.”I raise a brow, struggling to see the grin on his face that I know is there.He raises his hands as if to say, ‘Not like that’.
A fresh wave of tears fills Cora’s eyes as she reaches out for me, her little fingers closing around mine in a grip that’s both weak and desperate. I can feel the tremor in her hands—the faint, frantic flutter of her pulse against my skin.My heart aches with a deep, throbbing pain that’s almost physical. She worries about Vera. Of course she does. My brave, selfless little girl, who is fighting for her own life, is more concerned about the feelings of the sister who has barely spoken a word to anyone since she was rescued.“No, honey, of course not,” I say, my voice a low, soothing murmur as I gently wipe away her tears with my thumb. “Vera was worried, yes. But she doesn’t hate you. She could never hate you. She loves you very, very much.”“Are you sure?” Cora presses, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t want her to hate me. I don&rsqu
“Elara has always been patient with you,” Grandma says, sighing heavily. “But you, on the other hand, never gave her the time of your life. Even when she was pregnant, you never cared. In fact, you blamed her for taking advantage of you. But have you ever stopped to wonder why she would want to hav
He turns to Damon. “I’m sorry, son, for not raising my daughter properly. This is… this is all my fault.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Elara has always been money-minded. She pretends she doesn’t care, but money is the only thing she’s ever cared about. Even as a child, s
[Elara]The rest of the day I spend with Cora, talking about endless things. Playing games. Being their muse as Miranda and Jazz sketch me with the best of their skills.I also help Jazz with dinner, and we all eat together, chatting away happily.It’s only after Cora and Miranda fall asleep and ar
[Griffin]When I was eight, my cousins dragged me out of my room and locked me in the basement. They called it a game—something meant to be fun, something to laugh about later.It wasn’t fun for me. Not even close.It felt like being trapped inside a horror movie, one I desperately wanted to end.I







